Season of War
by S J Smith
Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life. Manga based, this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith.
1. A Time to Rend

Season of War: A Time to Rend

S J Smith

Characters: Ed – Winry – Al

Rating: Teen for language

Prompt: Supernova

Word count: 1589

Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)

* * *

It started with a simple telephone call; one that dragged Alphonse and his brother out of their room at some unmentionable hour of the morning.

The hotel clerk rapped on the door until Edward stumbled from his bed, his curses almost unintelligible, his hair a ragged halo around his head. Alphonse canted his helmet, watching as his brother staggered around the couch, as Edward snatched open the door with a savage, "This sure as hell better be an emergency."

The clerk, all too accustomed to the elder Elric's propensity for rage, didn't even react beyond saying, "The gentleman on the other end of the line said it was, sir."

As Ed gaped up at the clerk, Alphonse rose to his feet, joining his brother in the doorway. "Did he say who he was?" he asked, crowding against Edward, wondering who might call at this hour of the night.

The clerk said, "Only that it dealt with 'that stupid rock' and that I was to be quick about getting you."

The brothers had exchanged a look, Ed nearly starting out the door in his boxers and t-shirt but Alphonse hauled him back by his hair. "We'll be right down," he told the clerk, closing the door and propelling his brother towards clothing.

Ed didn't bother with shoes or either of his jackets, just dragged on trousers and buckled his belt on the way down the stairs. The courtesy telephone on the counter waited for his attention and Alphonse hovered nervously over his brother as Edward picked up the telephone, barking out, "Who is this?" His expression slipped from angry to questioning to concerned to confused, all in the space of a few seconds and Alphonse saw the way Edward's knuckles tightened to whiteness on the telephone receiver. "What are you…no, wait. I don't…tell me you're joking." His voice nearly cracked on that last word and Alphonse strained to hear what words filtered through the telephone line. "You what?" Ed asked, almost breathlessly and he swallowed, glancing over his shoulder, almost as if he could see right through Alphonse's armor to the street outside. His spine stiffened and Ed spat, "The hell you say. I'm not – no, I'm not." He flung his free hand out, nearly rapping Alphonse's chest plate with it. "Al can!"

Al can what? Alphonse wondered, picking up on his brother's tension and anxiety. Edward's brows drew down in a tremendous scowl, his lower lip shoved out. "I am not," he argued with whoever was on the other line. "I'm not. Oh, no." He shook his head once, savagely. "Don't try it." His hand slammed on the countertop and he hissed, "That's playing dirty, Hughes."

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes? Why would he be calling? Al's plate armor rattled and he wanted to pace, to do anything but he refused to leave his brother's side, hovering as much as he could, wishing that he could hear whatever Hughes said.

Edward's voice dropped even more, the words, "Fuck you," barely registering before Ed slammed the receiver into its cradle. Whirling around, he nearly rammed into Alphonse, his hands waving out to the sides to keep his balance. "C'mon, Al," he growled, dodging around his brother, heading purposefully towards the stairs.

Alphonse caught up to his brother on the steps, asking, almost tentatively, "Brother, why did you say that to the Lieutenant Colonel? He's always," he dropped to silence at the heated look from Edward.

"Something's going on, Al," Edward's voice was still low, a bare rumble in the air, his eyes lit up with fury.

"What?" Alphonse hesitated, feeling unbalanced, though he stood perfectly still.

"Hughes ordered you," his gaze slid past Alphonse, "to take Winry and get out of Amestris."

Alphonse made a sound that translated to a sigh. "Brother, you know I always know when you're lying. And the Lieutenant Colonel wouldn't order just me." He dropped a gauntlet on his brother's shoulder, wishing he could actually feel the tension he knew Edward had to be experiencing.

Pulling away roughly, Edward started back up the stairs. "It's an order, Al," he said over his shoulder, not looking back.

"But I'm not even in the military." Alphonse hurriedly climbed after his brother. "He can't order me around." Edward kicked at the partially open door to their room, his automail foot booming off of it. Alphonse winced, saying, "Brother! You'll wake the other guests!"

Ed ignored him, reaching for his suitcase. Opening it on the bed, he grabbed his scattered belongings, throwing them inside. "I don't care, Al," he said, leaning over the bed, his hands tightening into fists.

Alphonse could just see his brother's knuckles going white on his left hand. "What did the Lieutenant Colonel say, Brother?" he asked. "Why would he want us to take Winry and leave Amestris?"

"Not us, Al," Edward said, without turning around, slamming the lid of the suitcase and latching it closed. He turned to face Alphonse, his mouth a knife sharp line. "Just you. I'll go with you to Central but you and Winry need to just keep going south." He pulled out his journal, picking up a pencil to scribble in some information and ripped it out of the book. "Use this," he shoved the paper at Al, "to get out of Amestris. That's my account," he added, almost unnecessarily, "and you might need this." Edward's hand hovered over the watch for just a second, maybe two, before thrusting it into Alphonse's hands.

"I don't believe you, Brother," Alphonse said firmly, blocking Edward on his path around the room. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes would've wanted to talk to me to tell me to do this." He tried to hand back the watch and paper to Edward but his brother backed away, refusing to accept the items. "He told you that we needed to leave Amestris. Why?"

Swallowing hard, Edward's head turned to the side, a frown darkening his profile. "He said," the words sounding quiet and ragged, "that something bad is coming. He doesn't want us involved."

"Us." Alphonse pounced on the word. "He doesn't want us involved."

Ed jerked back around, his scowl deepening. "You," he barked out. "You or Winry. He wants you out of Amestris. Where it's safe."

"Where would that be, Brother?" Alphonse asked as Ed yanked his jackets off the bedposts he'd thrown them at the night before.

Shrugging them on, Ed fished in his pockets for his gloves. "Creata. Drachma."

"Those places aren't safe for someone from Amestris," Alphonse whispered softly as his brother headed for the door, suitcase in hand. "What's going on, Ed?"

His shoulders slumped heavily, head drooping forward. "He…Hughes said," Edward's voice trailed off and he looked over his shoulder at Alphonse, his mouth turned down. "He said we need to go."

The door boomed open again, Winry standing in it, her hands on her hips. "Are you two aware that people are trying to sleep?" she yelled.

A sick grin appeared on Ed's face. "Winry," he said, "go get dressed. We're leaving."

She blinked, surprise and confusion warring for room on her face. "What do you mean?"

Edward brushed past her, heading into the hall. "Brother," Alphonse said, raising a hand as Winry spun around, both of them following Ed into Winry's room. He gathered up her toolbox, tossing it to Alphonse.

"What's going on?" Winry lifted her head to Al then screeched as Edward dug into one of the drawers of the dresser, his hands coming up with pastel, silky underthings. "Edward!" She grabbed him by his hair, jerking his head back and Alphonse thought he'd never seen his brother turn that particular shade of red before.

"You need to get packed." Despite the blush, Edward's voice was level and sure and he thrust the panties at Winry and went back to the next drawer.

"Al?" Winry gave him a wide-eyed look. "What's going on?"

He shrugged, the clank and slide of armor plates emphasizing the movement. "Brother says we have to leave."

"But why?" Her plaintive question made Edward turn around, holding Winry's shirts to his chest.

"Hughes called," he said softly, his mobile face set in downcast lines, "and said we should get out of Amestris before…" Edward shook his head and leaned back against the dresser. "Before the war starts."

"War?" Winry whispered, looking from Edward to Alphonse.

"Get packed, Winry." Ed laid the shirts on her rumpled bed. He dropped a hand on her shoulder, surprised when Winry caught his wrist, holding on when he attempted to move away.

"What are we going to do?" she asked softly.

Edward lowered his eyes. "Go to Central first. If…if it's true…we need to know for sure." He gently extracted himself from Winry's grip. "Get dressed, Winry. We'll be waiting for you downstairs."

Alphonse followed his brother out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. "Brother? Should we? I mean, should we really go to Central?" Alphonse lowered his helmet. "If it's dangerous there," he hesitated then plowed on, "especially for Winry, shouldn't we just keep going south?"

Shoulders rising and falling, he said, staring straight ahead, "I don't like running away, Al. I want to know for sure. And if you won't take Winry away," Edward looked back then, and Alphonse felt a wrench in his soul at the expression in his brother's eyes, "then we have to stay together."

The 'and keep her safe' resonated in the air between them, an unspoken promise that Alphonse knew that they'd both fight to keep.

* * *


	2. A Time to Reap

Season of War: A Time to Reap

S J Smith

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)

Rating: Mature due to language and situation.

Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.

Manga-based; this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith. Written for the 7stages (of Alchemic Transformation) challenge. The first story is: "Season of War: A Time to Rend." The prompt this time is "the surge and thunder."

* * *

The train rattled along the tracks, the lonely whistle wailing from the locomotive and Edward nodded awake, his head swaying slightly from the motion of the car. He yawned, Alphonse's, "Careful, Brother. You'll hit Winry," stopping his stretch midway with a squeak.

The last few hours tumbled in his mind and Ed straightened in his seat, glancing towards the window. A murky haze greeted him, the train hurtling on through a morning fog. Pursing his mouth, Ed scowled at the glass, at the condensation formed on it. Cold seeped in and next to him, Winry shivered in her sleep, turning slightly away from the window, a little frown creasing her forehead.

"I think I'm making her colder," Alphonse said quietly. "I'll go find her a blanket."

Before Ed could protest, his brother rose from the bench, moving down the aisle. Snapping his mouth shut, Ed glanced down at Winry. She shivered again, gooseflesh rising on her bare legs. With a grumble, Ed slipped out of his long jacket, laying it over her. Winry made a little sound, squirming deeper into the warmth, the frown sliding away to be replaced by a faint smile. She moved in her sleep again, tilting into him, her head landing on his shoulder so each breath brushed against his throat.

Ed tensed but Winry slept on, a soft purring sound coming from her as she snuggled closer. Something warm and soft pressed into his arm and Ed flushed hot at the realization that Winry's breast was touching him. Shifting slightly in his seat, Ed tried rolling his shoulder, hoping that she might move again, move away from him because the feel of her breath on his skin and that…softness…and his new awareness of what particular part of her body felt like was having an effect on him that Ed had never actually reckoned on. Oh, sure, he knew all about…urges. Not like he hadn't woken in the morning with a hard on that meant he had to either lie there until it subsided or do something about it and it was usually quicker – and not to mention, pleasurable, in a guilty sort of way – to resolve the problem rather than wait it out. But this was Winry his body was reacting to and Ed was sure that had to be all kinds of wrong, despite the fact that she was a girl, he was a boy and girls and boys did…things together.

But not on a train where anyone could see them, he argued with himself mentally. A groan almost escaped Ed as Winry shifted again, his red coat sliding away from her thighs. The movement dragged his eyes right down to her legs and the way that her skirt was pulled to the side because it was caught on his jacket. Damn it, if he didn't get out from under her – and Ed's eyes widened again at the unfortunate choice of words and accompanying images his brain supplied him with – there was going to be a bigger problem. "Winry," he said through gritted teeth, joggling her head on his shoulder. "Winry, wake up." How she could sleep with all this going on was beyond him; a phone call in the middle of the fucking night with Hughes telling them to get out of Amestris? Ed conveniently ignored that until a few minutes ago, he'd been sleeping, too, running through what Hughes had said again, hoping against hope that the stark words of homunculi and death and the Philosopher's Stone would have the opposite reaction on his cock that Winry's body was currently alchemizing, all on its own.

As if to spite him, she took a deep breath and let it out again, the sound of his name carried on her exhalation. Oh, fuckity fuck fuck, he thought, squirming sideways, this wasn't happening and it couldn't be, not now, though his body wasn't paying any attention to what his brain was telling it. Not to mention it was getting harder to think about anything beyond what Winry's hair smelled like – lavender and vanilla? – and how cute she looked when she slept and – oh hell – the way her tongue flicked out over her lower lip. Ed swallowed, forcing his right hand to come up to Winry's shoulder, clasping it but the problem was he froze, his mind telling his hand to push her away and his cock insisting he pull her closer, preferably onto his lap and to hell with propriety.

Ed wasn't sure how long he sat there, mind and body in such conflict with each other when Alphonse's voice rumbled out, "Brother?" in such a questioning way that Ed managed to break away from Winry. He didn't even let Al get out the obvious, "I found the blanket," before he was on his feet, sweeping his jacket up and around himself, careful to make sure that everything was covered up, all his little – damn it, not little! – sins were concealed by the sway of the coat. "Are you all right?" Al sounded maybe more concerned than he should.

"Fine," Ed said gruffly, "just need to go to the lavatory," and hoped that his face and ears weren't as bright red as they felt.

"Oh," Alphonse said, and then, "oh!" in a completely different tone and Ed jolted to a halt at that second exclamation. "Well, Brother, make sure to use your left hand this time."

With a growl that would've been a full out cussing match had he not really, really needed to get to the lavatory and take care of some business, Edward made his way down the swaying car and out of it, leaving his laughing brother behind him.

Winry sat up, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. "What's going on?" she asked sleepily, blinking at Al.

He handed her the blanket. "You'll have to ask Brother," Alphonse said, far too cheerful, Winry thought, for it being this early in the morning. "Even if it is a little hard for him to talk about."

* * *


	3. A Time to Lose

Season of War: A Time to Lose

S J Smith

Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell

Rating: Mature due to language and situations.

Prompt: The effect of impact on stationary objects

Word count: 2019

Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.

A.N.: Manga-based; this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith in that they don't actually make it there. Written for the 7stages (of Alchemic Transformation) challenge. The first story is: "A Time to Rend," the second is "A Time to Reap."

Much thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits.

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)

* * *

Dawn still hadn't quite arrived when the train pulled into the Central City station. It didn't matter to the porters and luggage handlers and tenders and engineers, accustomed to working at all hours to keep the trains moving on time. The passengers, on the other hand, were more acclimated to the diurnal lifestyle. Being woken and dumped off into a chilly train station before the sun even considered rising wasn't something anyone would willingly choose.

And yet, here they were. Winry rubbed at her eyes with the back of her free hand, the other knotted around the carry strap of her tool chest. "Are you sure this is Central?" she asked.

A large hand landed on her shoulder, guiding her out of the way of a rushing porter. "Yes." Alphonse's voice sounded tinny as always but also muffled, as if the morning affected him, too. "The conductor announced it before we pulled into the station."

On her other side, Ed paused, frowning up at the timepiece that hung over the archway in the station. "It's too early for Hughes to be at Headquarters," he said, his mouth tightening.

"I think I remember where he and Mrs. Hughes live." Winry hoped she didn't sound as doubtful as she thought she did.

"You know more than we do." Ed sighed, starting out of the station. Winry and Alphonse caught up to him as he reached the stairs, surprised to find him standing on the top step, his back rigid in surprise. "Oh, hell."

"What is it, Brother?" Alphonse asked then realization struck. "First Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

"Hello Edward, Alphonse." She nodded at them coolly from the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. "What are you boys doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Ed muttered. Winry noticed his hand clenching. "Wait, if you're here," his voice trailed off and he whipped around, grimacing. "Why are you here in Central?"

"Is that any way to speak to your superior officer, Fullmetal?"

His voice was fluid and rich, reminding Winry inexplicably of a broad river, moving slow and sure. The thought came to her that she recognized that voice, somehow, and she frowned slightly, glancing from the dark-haired man moving slowly but steadily through the rush of people around him. It might've been his uniform that accorded him the respect that neither she nor Ed received from the rushing people but Winry thought maybe it was something innate, something more substantial. She decided abruptly that Ed probably might try to emulate this but Al would be more likely to achieve it. The slide of metal on metal let her know that Alphonse was inclining his head politely while Ed, standing next to her, bristled up like a hedgehog.

"Good morning, Colonel," Al said and received equally polite reply.

"Did you get kicked out of the East?" Ed interrupted.

The man's eyebrows rose slightly, as if he just noticed her, giving her a charming smile. Brushing past Edward, he offered Winry his hand. "Good morning, my dear," he said and Winry could swear Ed bristled up that much more. "Are you traveling with the Elric brothers?"

"I, yes?" Winry wasn't sure she liked being under such scrutiny.

"I'm Colonel Roy Mustang," he said in introduction, giving her hand a little squeeze. "Should you need anything, I hope you'll remember my name."

"She doesn't need anything from you," Ed snarled and Winry heard the servos in his automail whining from strain as he clenched his fist.

Colonel Mustang's smirk was just barely there. Winry wondered if Ed could even see it. "And I see you're as polite as ever, Fullmetal. Or are you just keeping her for yourself?"

"Now, Brother," Alphonse said, his gauntlets dropping onto Ed's shoulders before he could rush forward. "Colonel, this is Winry Rockbell. She's our friend and Brother's mechanic."

"How do you do," Winry said politely before extracting her hand. She noticed the blond woman coming back up the stairs, a long jacket hung over her bent arm. Winry frowned slightly, thinking that the woman looked familiar.

"Fullmetal's mechanic? I'm sure he has no idea how lucky he is," the colonel said, and though the words sounded innocuous enough, Ed's mouth turned down even more and he nearly lunged out of Alphonse's grip.

"Take it back, you bastard," Ed growled and raised a fist.

"Good morning, Edward. Good morning, Alphonse," the woman said, joining them. "Sir, you aren't teasing Edward, are you?"

"Teasing?" The colonel gave her a bland look. "I was only complementing the young lady. Miss Rockbell, this is First Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"Oh, I know you," Winry blurted out, offering the woman a shy smile. "You came with someone to talk to Ed about joining the military."

"You were there?" Ed gave Lieutenant Hawkeye a once-over.

"You offered me tea. I remember now." Hawkeye smiled gently. "You've grown into a lovely young woman, Winry, isn't it?"

She nodded, surprised that this woman remembered her name. "Yes. And you've let your hair grow out." Winry could almost feel Ed becoming impatient beside her. "It looks pretty."

"Thank you, Winry." Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded at the brothers. "What brings the three of you to Central?"

Ed rubbed the back of his head, laughing shortly. "We got this weird call from Hughes last night," he started to say, the words dying as both the colonel and the lieutenant turned shocked expressions on him. "What?"

"Did you say Lieutenant Colonel Hughes called you?" Mustang asked and Winry noticed his fist clenching almost as tightly as Ed's.

"Yeah." Ed's eyebrows canted down. "What's going on?" He took a step closer to the colonel, lowering his voice. "I mean, the things he said."

"He said?" Mustang sounded as if he was being strangled. "What did he say?"

Lieutenant Hawkeye said, "This may not be the place for this conversation, sir." Winry could see the strain in her eyes and wondered at it. "I've commissioned a vehicle. We can drop the Elrics and Winry off at their hotel."

His expression cold, Mustang dipped his head in agreement. "Do you have your luggage? Yes? Then let's go." Sweeping around, Mustang gestured for them to follow, leaving Ed standing with his mouth hanging open.

"Brother?" Alphonse started down the stairs, hesitating when Edward didn't immediately move.

"What the hell is going on?" Ed stormed past Al, leaving Winry trailing behind them both.

There was barely enough room in the back seat for them all but somehow, they fit. Winry wasn't sure she'd ever breathe properly again, thinking she was very glad that the flanges on Alphonse's greaves were pressed close against his sides. Ed somehow squirmed forward to lean over the back of the front seat, demanding answers to his questions.

Mustang's voice, low and level, but full of some emotion Winry couldn't define, broke in. "What do you mean, Hughes called you last night?"

Huffing, Edward said, "He said crazy things." Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, Ed went on, "Said that Al, Winry and I needed to get out of Amestris."

The two adults in the front seat swiveled to meet each other's gazes before Hawkeye turned her attention firmly back to the road in front of them. Mustang grated, "Last night."

"Yeah. The clerk dragged me and Al downstairs to take the call." Ed's voice turned a little plaintive. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"This probably isn't a conversation to be had in a car, either," Mustang said darkly. He gestured at a side street and Hawkeye turned the car down it.

Ed fumed while Hawkeye parked the car. "What do you know?" he asked.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Mustang said, climbing out of the front seat. He inclined his head and, swearing under his breath, Edward waited for Al to get out and followed him.

"Wait here, Winry," Alphonse said, showing her his palm when she started to follow them.

With a sigh and a little pout, Winry folded her arms. "I never get to hear anything," she muttered then realized that Hawkeye hadn't gotten out of the car, either. A flush brightened her cheeks as she noticed the woman eyeing her in the mirror.

"Did you speak to the Lieutenant Colonel as well, Winry?" Hawkeye asked, her voice low.

She shook her head. "No, Ed woke me up with his yelling. He told me to get packed, we were coming to Central." Winry lowered her eyes to her hands, clasped in her lap. "Ed said that Mr. Hughes, well, that we should leave Amestris because there's a war coming." Peeping through her bangs, Winry saw a strange expression flit across Miss Hawkeye's reflection. "Is there something wrong?"

Ed's shout startled Winry, spinning her towards the window. His whole body radiated shock, his shoulders shaking slightly and his fists clenching up tight. Winry thought he might fly apart at the seams. "The hell you say," he yelled.

"Brother, calm down," Alphonse was saying as Winry popped open the door to the car, stepping out of it.

She winced at the stench in the alley; the faint smell of rotting garbage still evident in the cool weather. Overhead, the morning sky brightened and Winry knew the sun would be burning off the mist. She tugged at her jacket cuffs nervously, setting her feet carefully on the slick surface. "What's wrong, Ed, Al?"

"Winry, get back in the car," Alphonse said, though his voice sounded strangely muffled.

Mustang's face was cool and distant. "I'm telling you the truth, Fullmetal."

"It isn't true," Ed bit out and Winry thought if he took a step closer to the colonel, Ed would hit the man. "It can't be true."

Mustang's head was turned away from them, as if he didn't want to face them to tell them what he knew. Winry moved hesitantly nearer, hearing faintly behind her the scuff of shoes on the brick street. Unfamiliar hands fell on her shoulders and Winry leaned against their weight, trying to break free. Something was happening and she refused to miss out again.

"I'm sorry," Mustang finally said, the words laden with regret. He turned to face the brothers and Winry could see Ed trembling, his panting breath making plumes in front of his face.

"No," Ed muttered and whirled away from the colonel, from Al, his wild eyes not quite focusing on her as he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a building.

"Brother!" Alphonse cried out as Winry said, "Ed!" Neither of them was able to move, Winry held in place by Hawkeye's hands; Al as if he was alchemized to the filthy street. Ed fell against the wall, turning as if its brace was the only thing keeping him upright. A sickly smile cocked his mouth; his eyes strange and dark and Ed passed his hand, glove ripped from its encounter with the wall, over his face.

Alphonse turned back to the colonel, the creak of his armor loud in the tightness of the alley. "You can't be right," he said.

Mustang eyed him as if looking down from a height though the eye slots for Al's armor were high above his head. "I wish I weren't," he said, the words dripping from him like bitter gall.

"What is it?" Winry asked desperately, feeling as if the ground pulled out from under her. Ed shuddered again, his face turning away from her. Winry tried to catch Alphonse's gaze but his helmet lowered. Mustang turned that distant look to her and spoke words that made no sense.

Later, she remembered a sound, a sheer, choked sound that clawed its way out of her throat and Al reaching for her when she broke down, Lieutenant Hawkeye unable to keep her upright. Later, Winry remembered clutching at the greaves of Alphonse's armor, his leather gauntlets a ghostlike weight on her shoulders. Later, she remembered Ed's expression, his mouth turned down and eyes full of guilt and sorrow.

Now, now, she just wanted to punch a wall, too, so maybe the pain would go away.

* * *


	4. A Time to Weep

Season of War: A Time to Weep

S J Smith

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)

Rating: Teen for language

Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.

A.N.: Manga-based; this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith. Written for the 7stages (of Alchemic Transformation) challenge. The prompt this time is "dragon tears."

* * *

Everything seemed strange and muted, Alphonse thought, even more so than normal. He couldn't feel the sun; even in his memories, certain things faded and though he thought, sometimes, he could remember what the warmth of the sun felt like striking on his skin, Alphonse could never be sure if it was real or imagined.

Memories swarmed fast and thick, overwhelming. Elicia's tears could have been his own at his mother's grave. The sun was the same, implacable in the clear sky, the mourners, with their own sorrow shrouding them, it was all the same.

Beside him, Winry stood, her lower lip caught between her teeth, tears speeding unheeded down her cheeks. Edward was on her other side, his long bangs masking whatever expression lurked in his eyes. Alphonse could guess at what his brother hid, feeling his own misery rising. If only, he thought, if only we hadn't spoken, if we'd kept our theories to ourselves, Brigadier General Hughes might still be alive.

The plaintive words of one little girl were their undoing. Edward's head jerked at Elicia's cry, "Daddy, wake up!" For an instant, Alphonse could see everything in his brother's expressive eyes, could read the horror and pain and sheer, utter loss that Edward felt. Swallowing hard, Edward took a step away from the graveside, casting from side to side and suddenly bolting.

Winry glanced up at Alphonse, her tearful eyes widened and he gestured abruptly for her to go. Her face twisted as she realized why he didn't want to move. "Go on, Winry," Alphonse murmured and she obeyed, following Edward decorously until she reached the edge of the crowd, then picking up speed. Alphonse turned back to the ceremony, not really listening to the words being spoken. He saw the flash of eyes from under the brim of the Fuhrer's hat, seeing that gaze directed off toward Edward. The tightness on the man's face made Alphonse ache all the more. When even the Fuhrer mourned the loss of one of his men, it showed that Brigadier General Hughes would be missed more than anyone could ever realize.

The ceremony seemed to both drag on and to abruptly end. Alphonse started when he realized that people were starting to shift around, offering condolences to Mrs. Hughes and Elicia. Colonel Mustang, Alphonse noticed, hung back but First Lieutenant Hawkeye moved forward, speaking with the grieving family. Before Alphonse could go to Mrs. Hughes, someone stopped in front of him.

"Alphonse Elric."

"Sir?" Alphonse nearly took a step back, surprised that Fuhrer Bradley would single him out at a time like this.

"I'm pleased that you attended the funeral," the Fuhrer said, though his lone eye traced the path that Edward had taken earlier. "Comfort should be given to those who are left behind." His gaze swept back, pinning Alphonse. "Were you close to the Brigadier General?"

"Um," Alphonse said, his fingers moving nervously, "he came to see Ed in the hospital every day and he took care of Winry, too. Sir."

"Oh, yes, I remember. The Brigadier General and Major Armstrong were there when I came to visit Fullmetal." Fuhrer Bradley removed his hat, raking his fingers over his head. "Such a waste of talent." His expression seemed distant then snapped back to Alphonse. "You will take care of your brother, Alphonse?"

"Yes, sir!" Alphonse nodded, the plates of his armor squeaking as he did.

"Excellent. Such devotion." The Fuhrer replaced his hand on his head. "I'm sure we'll meet again shortly, Alphonse." He patted the shoulder piece, somehow avoiding the spikes, and walked off.

Alphonse stared after him for a few seconds then heard a familiar, cranky voice. "What was that about?"

"Brother." Alphonse turned, exclaiming in surprise, "You look terrible!" He clapped his hands on Edward's shoulders.

His face pale, Edward hid behind his long bangs. "I'm okay," he grumbled.

"He threw up," Winry said quietly, her arms crossed. Alphonse could see the worry in her stance, even though most people would mistake it for anger, probably even Brother.

"I need to talk to Mrs. Hughes." Edward threw off Alphonse's hands, giving Winry a glare that didn't carry any of its normal rancor.

"What are you going to tell her, Ed?" Winry unfolded her arms to plant her hands on her hips. She lowered her voice but the fierceness remained. "That you got a telephone call from her husband after he died? Do you know how that will sound?"

Edward jutted out his chin. "No! I'm not going to tell her that." He glowered at Winry then slumped, his head bowing. Alphonse heard him swallow hard. "I just wanted to tell her," Edward murmured, "how bad I feel." He let out a sigh, his shoulders lifting and falling with the breath. "Hughes didn't deserve to die, Al."

"I know, Ed." Alphonse wished he could hug his brother. Edward needed something to ground him and maybe make him feel less miserable. Alphonse hoped Winry could see it but knew even if she did, Edward would probably brush off any attempt to make him feel better. His brother wasn't one for being held or touched, even, not since they'd failed in the transmutation to bring their mother back; maybe even before that, when Mom had died. Alphonse couldn't remember Ed accepting any comfort then, either.

Whispering, "I don't know what to say," Ed glanced helplessly from Al to Winry. "I-I mean, I know what I should say, but." His voice died off as Winry touched his arm lightly.

"It's okay." She nodded, sliding her hand down his arm to take his hand. "We'll be with you and you don't have to say anything, if you don't want to, right, Al?"

"Right." Alphonse nodded, the metal creaking slightly. "We can do this, Brother. We're a team." He laid his leather gauntlet on Ed's shoulder.

For an instant, he seemed swallowed up in his misery and Al wondered that Ed didn't topple to the ground from the weight of the guilt surrounding him. He wanted to say something more, wanted Winry to find the words that he searched for but she seemed just as lost as he felt. All Al could do was squeeze Ed's shoulder and maybe, that was enough.

Taking a deep breath, Ed stepped away from them. He squared his shoulders and Alphonse felt something run through him at the sight of his brother, standing so straight. "Yeah," Ed whispered, "let's do this." Without waiting to see if they'd follow, Edward made his way through the last of the mourners toward Mrs. Hughes.

"He'll be all right, Al," Winry murmured, taking Al's hand in her own and squeezing it.

"I know," Al replied just as quietly, and they trailed behind in Ed's wake.

* * *


	5. A Time to Mourn

Season of War: A Time to Mourn

S J Smith

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)

Rating: Teen for language

Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.

A.N.: Manga-based; this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith. Written for the 7stages (of Alchemic Transformation) challenge, the first story is "A Time To Rend," the second story is "A Time To Reap," the third story is, "A Time To Lose," the fourth story is, "A Time To Weep." The prompt this time is "the seed of the fire."

* * *

"_I'm not leaving Al or Winry out of this. It concerns them." _

Ed clenched his fists, hearing his words echo in his skull as he stood in the hallway of a hotel. He'd said them but here he was, by himself, alone. _I'm protecting them_, Ed told himself, knowing that he probably lied. Al would want to know and Winry…she deserved to know. Ed swallowed hard, leaning his head forward so it rested against the wooden frame.

He'd gone to meet Mustang, his commander all but insisting on it at the cemetery. Ed hadn't even considered bringing Al or Winry to the meeting. The message he'd received from Hughes included them, sure, but Hughes had asked for him specifically and Ed wanted to try to keep Al and Winry innocent for just a little while longer, even if he was beginning to put together pieces of a puzzle, with a picture he didn't really want to see.

Mustang had welcomed him to the room, had spoken to him briefly, more of an interrogation than a normal report. Ed had answered truthfully and to the best of his ability; giving his commanding officer everything he knew, only hoping that Mustang would share his own knowledge and not be an asshole about it. It just seemed that the colonel was too stunned to react.

Ed knew how he felt; a telephone call that came in the middle of the night from a man who'd been murdered hours earlier – it sound fantastic, a ghost story. Ed would've laughed if anyone tried to tell it to him but he'd heard Hughes' voice, even argued with the man over the telephone. And the idea of a war coming to Amestris, Ed wanted to believe that was ludicrous but from the haunted expression on Mustang's face, he'd realized that the colonel understood, maybe far better than Ed did, what Hughes was getting at.

"He tried to call me," Mustang had said, staring blankly at the window. First Lieutenant Hawkeye had poured them all coffee to drink but it sat steaming until it cooled to sludge. Mustang's mouth twisted sharply and he lowered his head, pressing fingertips to his eyes and Ed realized what the man meant. "Dammit, what did he know? What was he researching?"

Hesitantly, Ed had offered, "I don't know but he said," he'd swallowed, "that I should get Al and Winry out of Amestris, so we wouldn't be a part of it."

Mustang sighed, shaking his head. "If what Hughes told you is true then arrangements need to be made." He straightened then, shoulders stiff, looking across the room and meeting Hawkeye's gaze steadily. "You won't be going alone, Edward."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ed snarled, pushing out of his chair to lean across the little table into the bastard's face.

"Yes," he said quietly, "you are. If Hughes wanted you out of Amestris, you're leaving Amestris. You, Alphonse and Miss Rockbell, all together." He held up a finger, forestalling Ed's imminent explosion, "and you're taking two more people with you."

That, Ed thought now, was playing dirty – being given an order and knowing there was no way he'd turn it down. Straightening from his position against the doorframe, he knocked once and heard the clank and slide of metal against metal, knowing Alphonse was coming to the door. "It's me, Al," he said wearily and the door opened.

As Ed came through the door, Winry started to her feet, her face drawn. Her hands twisted around each other nervously and Ed wished he could take them in his own, calm her that way. Instead, he glanced up and back at Al, turned what he hoped was a reassuring smile at Winry but from the look she gave him, that experiment failed.

"What did you find out from Colonel Mustang?" Al asked, an urgent note in his voice.

Sighing, Ed took one of the chairs at the little table, nearly falling into it. "He gave me an order," he said quietly, "and it involves you two, too." With a sick grin, Ed said, "We're going to make a run for it." He closed his eyes, hating the way that sounded, hating the idea of backing down, of just sneaking off. "Not just us, though. Mustang said we're taking Mrs. Hughes and Elicia with us and," Ed glanced Winry's way, "Granny Pinako, too, if we can convince her to go. But we have to be ready to leave soon."

"How soon?" Winry's voice trembled but didn't crack.

"An hour? Less? The next train out." Ed dug his fingers into his hair, tugging at it. "We need to be on the next train heading east. Mustang was making arrangements for our tickets. There's a car waiting for us downstairs." He raised his head, meeting Winry's eyes. "He was having Hawkeye call Pinako, Winry, and then they were going to get Mrs. Hughes and Elicia. We're meeting at the train station and getting out of here." Ed hated the plan, the very idea of it galled him. He didn't want to be part of it but the order to protect not just Al and Winry, but Mrs. Hughes and Elicia, too, would force him to go along with it, at least to start out with. Once they got to the far east, to the desert, Ed hoped to be able to turn around and come back. Hughes couldn't die and not be avenged, and the mystery he'd left behind was more than Ed could stand to leave unsolved. Getting to his feet, he said, "We need to get moving, Winry. I hope you didn't unpack anything."

The car was still waiting, Maria Ross behind the wheel, her face set like stone. She didn't acknowledge their arrival, just started the car when they were all inside. Ed stared at the back of Winry's head, afraid to look anywhere else. If he saw something, if he glanced out the window, maybe something would happen, something worse, though Ed wasn't sure how much worse things could get. Ross dropped them off at the station with barely a word, leaving them to run up the stairs to the platform.

"Where are we going, Brother?" Al asked, his helmet swiveling back and forth and Ed bit back a sharp reply.

"Mustang said he'd get the tickets." Ed knew he couldn't see over the other passengers and hoped his brother would spot the colonel or even Mrs. Hughes before the train left. The chuffing sound of the engine being stoked hit his ears and he wished for an instant he could blot it all out. Next to him, Winry seemed pale, biting her lip so hard that a dot of blood appeared beneath her teeth.

"There." Alphonse sounded decidedly relieved, striding in the direction of a passenger car. Ed and Winry trotted after him, Ed finally spotting the bright gold of Hawkeye's hair, the faint surprise flickering through him that both she, and Mustang, too, he noticed, were out of uniform. It made sense, he told himself; they wouldn't want to stand out or draw attention to themselves or the woman and girl next to them. "Hi, Mrs. Hughes," Al said, "hi, Elicia."

"I'm glad you made it," Mustang was saying as Ed and Winry caught up to them. "Here are your tickets." He passed them along. Something in his expression was guarded and strained and Ed wondered how much of it was from Hughes' funeral and how much the information he'd provided. Mustang touched Mrs. Hughes' shoulder lightly; laid his hand on Elicia's cheek. "You'll be a good girl for your mommy, right, Elicia?" he asked.

"Uh, huh." She nodded, blinking wide eyes at him and Mustang smiled tenderly.

"Good." He embraced Mrs. Hughes quickly as the train whistle sounded, the conductor shouting, "All aboard!" behind them.

"Roy, I don't think," Mrs. Hughes began but Mustang silenced her with a finger to her mouth.

"Do this, Gracia. Please. For me." Mustang's voice sounded taut from strain and Ed glanced away from seeing Hawkeye quickly hug the other woman and kiss Elicia on the cheek.

"You need to go," Hawkeye murmured then turned to the kids. "Be safe."

"Yes'm," Al said and Winry nodded, a little dazedly.

Mustang ushered Mrs. Hughes to the edge of the platform, handing her up into the passenger car. Once he was sure she was on board, he turned to Ed, fixing him with dark eyes. "I expect you to take care of them," he said, "not just because I'm asking you to but because Maes would want you to."

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Ed jerked his head into a nod. "Y-yeah, sure," he managed to get out. He could hear Al chivying Winry onto the train. "I mean, I will."

"And stay with them, Ed." Mustang's hands fell onto his shoulders, squeezing them. "I know you; you'll want to come back here. But you need to stay with them. Do you understand?" Ed bobbed his head again, not sure he could trust his voice. "Good." A rare grin tilted the corners of Mustang's mouth. "Take care of yourself, Fullmetal." He clapped Ed's shoulders and took a step back.

Hawkeye gave Ed a warm smile. "Remember," she said, laying her hand on his cheek briefly, "even you cannot stand alone. Take comfort in your friends." Before Ed could react, she was moving away to stand next to Mustang.

"I…I will," Ed stammered. He turned around, reaching for the hand rail to pull himself onto the car. Stepping up, he hesitated, looking over his shoulder. "You, too," he said, hating that his voice cracked. "We'll be coming back, you know." Stabbing a finger at Mustang, he added, almost shouting, "And we'll expect to see both of you." Without waiting for a response, Ed charged up the remaining steps and into the car, hating the stinging in his eyes.

Stupid cinders from the smokestack.

* * *


	6. A Time to Cast Away Stones

Season of War: A Time to Cast Away Stones

S J Smith

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)

Rating: Teen for language but mature overall due to situations

Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.

* * *

Winry woke abruptly, her eyes fluttering open. She stared in confusion at the ceiling above her; slanted, fabric; felt her back ache, then realized, all over again, where she was. Sitting up cautiously, she slipped out of the blankets, shivering as the cold desert air stroked her skin. Why did someplace so uncomfortably hot during the day drop temperatures so much during the night? She knew that Ed or Al could explain it to her, if they were even up to talking. Edward had become even more tightlipped than normal since they arrived in the Eastern Desert and Al, well, Al had become both a walking branding iron and an object for radiating cold at night. If they could figure out a way to keep him that cool during the day, it wouldn't be bad, but once the sun came up, Alphonse stayed far away from people, horses and tender skin.

Ed suffered, too; not just because of Al but because his own automail heated up just like Al's armor. There wasn't anyway for Edward to get away from it. He was obviously miserable, burning himself during the day and, Winry could only assume, freezing during the night. She had some thoughts on how to help with that; maybe enameling the plates, and promised herself that she'd work on that when she had the chance.

Glancing at her sleeping companions, Winry could see, even in the filtered light of the fire outside, the strain this was taking on Mrs. Hughes. Lines marred her face, even while she slept, and Elicia's poor skin was bright pink with sunburn. Winry thought that Granny might've been a help and a comfort but Pinako Rockbell had been adamant – she was not leaving her home. Ed had been all for staying with her – for returning to Central – at least until Al reminded Ed that he'd been ordered to accompany them.

Winry guessed they were lucky the fight took place at the house. Who knows what might've happened at the train station. Granny had shaken her head at the idea of leaving. "This is my home," she'd said implacably, "I was born here. I raised my family here." The implication that she would die there, if necessary, remained unspoken.

Ed's eyes had darkened at Granny's words and he glanced off, to the west, toward Central City. "Me, too," he grumbled.

"I don't want to leave, either," Winry argued, poking a finger into Ed's chest, garnering his attention. How could she tell Ed that she hated the idea of running away as much as he did? That she hated that there wasn't any way to warn her friends in Rush Valley; no, everyone in Amestris what was going on? Very little spooked Winry but this was all too strange. "We have to take care of Miss Gracia and Elicia. That's our job now."

Ed had visibly chafed at that restraint but had slumped in agreement. Since then, he'd become further withdrawn, responding only when asked a direct question. He hadn't been surprised at all to find someone waiting to guide them through the desert, a grey-haired man with a bristling moustache who called himself 'Fuu.' Winry had asked him why he was waiting and he replied that he'd gotten word from his contacts in Central that someone needed a guide. He dropped Colonel Mustang's name, supplying enough information that Alphonse agreed that he wasn't there as a plant and, after outfitting them with supplies, Mr. Fuu led them into the desert.

That had been three days ago, three of the most hellish days Winry ever remembered. Misery clung to everyone in the group like a shroud. Even Mr. Fuu wasn't quite immune to it, though he did his best to keep everyone in as good as spirits as possible. He did his best work with Elicia, since she was young enough to see all this as a grand adventure. If the circumstances were different, Winry thought she might see it the same way.

The reason for her abrupt waking made itself more clearly known and, wincing, Winry crawled out of the tent. Her bladder ached, as if she'd drank a whole pot of tea before going to bed. The lit fire cast weird shadows up over the two tents and the line of horses and Winry picked her way carefully past the men's tent, where Ed and Fuu stayed, waving a hand at Alphonse where he sat guard. He raised his gauntlet in acknowledgement as Winry moved a little away from the campsite to pee.

The desert at night was amazing, she had to admit, even if it was cold. The stars were so bright overhead, far brighter than they'd ever seemed back in Rezembool, though Winry thought they'd probably be like this in Rush Valley. She hadn't spent enough time outside to notice. Winry finished what she'd come out of her tent to do, kicking sand over afterwards. There weren't a lot of noises in the desert, not like back home, no crickets or birds or bats. Rubbing her hands over her bare arms, Winry tried to create some friction heat as she started back for the camp.

"Don't move!"

She froze, eyes widening, watching as Ed slipped down a dune, trailing a cloud of dust in his wake. "What," Winry began but he touched a finger to his mouth, pointing down at her feet. Lowering her gaze, Winry swallowed hard at the sight of the snake in front of her. Two more steps, if that, and she'd have stepped on it. The wedge shaped head reminded Winry of the cottonmouths and copperheads back in Amestris.

Edward eased in front of her, leading with his left foot. "Back up." He spoke almost conversationally but Winry recognized the tension in his shoulders. "Slow, okay?"

"What are you going to do?" Winry almost didn't know her own voice, breathy and shrill as it was.

Touching his palms together, Ed transmuted the grill of his automail arm into a blade with a flash like blue lightning. He stepped forward and the snake reacted, its head lifting and tail vibrating. Winry could hear a peculiar buzzing sound and wondered if she was going to faint, then realized the noise came from the snake itself. Its mouth opened and Ed moved, his arm chopping down suddenly, sending the snake's head flying. The body whipped around and Ed snatched it up with his flesh hand, holding it up as the tail whipped around his arm.

Winry gulped at the size of the snake. It hadn't looked that big, coiled up, but now, the still body was nearly as long as Ed was tall. He glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression unreadable. "You should watch where you're going," he said gruffly.

Shock transmuted itself into anger almost immediately, sizzling through Winry's veins. She fought it down, realizing what it was, though her voice still sounded sharp when she asked, "What are you going to do with that?"

Ed shrugged. "Snake doesn't taste too bad. It's just hell picking the meat off the bones." He blinked and Winry realized what she saw in his face was worry, and exhaustion, and even a hint of self-loathing.

Taking a step closer, Winry rapped her knuckles against the transmuted blade on Ed's right hand. "Put that away and let's get back to camp." Ed stared at her blankly for a few seconds then obeyed, having to drop the snake to the ground to do so. Before he could pick it up again, Winry caught his hands, pulling them up under her chin.

"Winry, what," he began but she shushed him.

"I know you don't want to be here, Ed, but thank you for doing this." His left hand smelled like blood and his right like oil and metal, tucked up close. "Thanks for taking care of me." Winry squeezed his fingers before lowering and releasing them.

Ed sighed, some of his tension bleeding away. He laid his right hand on the crown of her head, a quick smooth of her hair, then let it fall away. "I just feel like I'm useless out here, Winry." His gaze turned toward the west, as it had so many times in the past three days. "If something is going on in Amestris, I should be there." The corner of his mouth turned down sharply. "It feels wrong to be…safe, if everyone else is in danger."

"I know." Winry took a deep breath and let it go again with a shiver. The false warmth of adrenaline was gone and she was starting to feel cold again. "I understand how you feel, Ed, I really do. But," she waved her hand back toward the camp. "We have our duty right now."

Sounding unconvinced, Ed muttered a, "Yeah," before looking her way again. "You're cold. C'mon, let's get back to camp." A hint of his old teasing came back into his voice. "Just watch where you're walking this time."

"I think I've learned that lesson," Winry said dryly, falling into step with Ed, "at least with the desert." She wasn't sure about anywhere else, particularly with Ed involved. Her shiver didn't go unnoticed and, frowning, Ed shoved the tail of the snake in his teeth, skinning out of his jacket and offering it to her with a bounce of his hand. "Thanks." The word came out soft and shy and Winry wondered at her voice again.

Ed glanced away but Winry could swear she saw his cheeks brighten with a wave of color. "Don't want you to be cold," he muttered while Winry covered up the shock of Ed blushing by pulling on his jacket. It felt warm, even the right sleeve, and smelled comfortably of Ed. Winry almost decided then and there Ed wasn't getting it back. "C'mon." Gesturing with hand and head, he started toward camp, trusting her to follow.

A giddy little smile spread across Winry's face as she caught up to Ed, walking next to him. "Mr. Fuu said we'd reach the Cselksess ruins tomorrow and we can rest there." She stretched her arms overhead and winced. "I never thought riding a horse would be so painful."

"At least Elicia will be able to run around a little." Ed brightened a bit. "And the ruins…I mean, a whole country that vanished in one night. Who knows what we might find."

"Hopefully, not another snake," Winry nodded to the body in Ed's hand.

He shrugged in response. "They're still pretty good to eat." As they walked back into the campsite, Ed pitched his voice to carry. "Hey, Al, we're back."

"I was starting to wonder if I should come looking for you." Al sounded…different, Winry thought, though she couldn't place how. "But I thought you might be busy."

Ed shot his brother an evil glare. Al somehow managed to miss it, watching Winry as she sat in front of the fire, arranging the coat around her. "Winry nearly stepped on a snake." Holding up the body, Ed made it wriggle. "I'm gonna go clean this. We can throw it in the pot for stew."

"You're not kidding?" Winry stared up at him.

"It tastes kind of like chicken." Shrugging, Ed walked off, Al's helmet squeaking as he nodded in agreement to his brother's statement.

"It does, Winry. Just a lot of rib bones."

"Let's not tell Mrs. Hughes and Elicia what they're eating," Winry said with a delicate shudder.

"Yeah," Al chuckled, "that's probably a good idea."

They sat in companionable silence, Winry watching the flames dance in front of her. The heat felt better than she really wanted to say. It was easy being with Al, she thought, easier, sometimes, than being with Ed, yet there were things she'd never tell Al that she'd share willingly with Ed. Though she'd had to bully him into bringing her along, Winry knew that Ed liked having her around, even if it was just because he could show off. That stunt with the automail arm wrestling, the whole chase through Rush Valley after Paninya – all right, some of that wasn't showing off. Neither were Ed's attempts to transmute a bridge so a doctor could be fetched for Satera's baby. He'd been stricken that he couldn't do anything.

Winry knew that was part of the problem now – Ed wanted to help, he wanted to be a part of whatever Mr. Hughes had warned them off of – and he was stuck out in the desert with a bunch of women who most likely didn't need protecting. She almost wished she could tell him to go, return to Amestris, but a part of her was selfish. Closing her eyes, Winry let herself acknowledge the guilt she felt for leaving home, leaving Granny and Den behind and coming out to the desert. If she felt like this, how much worse would Ed feel, after everything he'd done to help people all around the country?

Somehow, after he died, Mr. Hughes had somehow managed to place a telephone call to Edward. He'd told Ed to take Al and her and get out of Amestris. The more she thought about it, the more Winry didn't think it was right. Why would Mr. Hughes warn Ed rather than Mrs. Hughes? Why not warn Mr. Mustang? It made no sense to her and Winry didn't like that. Mr. Hughes had proven to her how much he loved Mrs. Hughes and Elicia. How would he know that Ed would bring them back to Central and Mr. Mustang would order Ed to take Mr. Hughes' family with them when they ran?

"Winry? What's wrong?" Alphonse was leaning forward, the firelight glinting on his breastplate, when Winry opened her eyes in response to his question.

What if it wasn't Mr. Hughes at all? What if someone wanted Ed and Al out of Amestris for another reason entirely? "I think," Winry spoke slowly so her voice wouldn't quaver, "you, your brother and I need to have a talk tomorrow, when we get to Cselksess." Her mouth tightened. "I think it's time to go home."

* * *


End file.
